Read Truth's Heart (The Valkyrie's Passion Book 3): A Valkyrie/Shifter Romance Online
Authors: Renee Jordan
He deserved to die. His words had been lies. His last, desperate attempt to save his life.
Raven knelt down and stared at a flower that had survived the surrounding destruction. The flower's petals were purple in the center and brushed bright red. Her fingers stroked it. I stood beside her, watching her, studying her.
“His death won't bring anyone back,” she sighed.
“No. But it had to be done.”
She nodded her head and stood up. I put my arms around her and pulled her to me. She rested her head on my chest. Her body shook. “Is it really over?”
“Yes,” I whispered.
Her arms tightened about me. It was wonderful to hold her. My Boudica.
“I thought of a poem about you,” I told her, “right before the battle. I knew I would forget it. Something about beauty and daylight.”
“That's okay,” she smiled. “You'll write another.”
Epilogue
Raven
“Are you sure you want to start with a tattoo this big?” Brick asked. The tattoo artist sat beside me on a rolling chair, the gun in hand. He had already traced the image on my back. I lay on my belly in a pair of tight jeans and a red bikini top, the knots in the back undone to let Brick work unhindered.
I had been uncomfortable at first with the knots untied and knowing if I sat up, I would expose more flesh than I wanted to the gruff-looking man. He was big, as large as Magnus, his head shaved, a thick, russet beard sprouting from his chin and cheeks, and his arms covered in sleeve tattoos of flames, skulls, dragons, and at least two naked women. He wore a leather vest and more tattoos decorated his chest.
And he was such a sweet guy, his voice not deep.
“It's going to hurt to do this in one sitting,” he continued. “I really don't recommend a beginner going through this.”
“I can take it,” I answered.
“She's tough,” Magnus grinned. He sat in the chair beside me.
Now that we had saved the world from Loki and Jormungandr, ended Ragnarok, and stopped the violent weather that everyone had blamed on global warming, I had decided to embrace the biker chick lifestyle. I was Magnus's Valkyrie ol' lady.
I liked the sound of that.
But an ol' lady needed a few tattoos. Magnus drew the one on my back—he had held back his skills at drawing. Was there anything he wasn't good at? It was a gorgeous image—a Valkyrie wreathed in flames, her sword in hand, a big, black wolf padding at her side with glowing eyes and a fierce snarl. They stood over the corpse of a dead dragon.
Why a dragon? Because a giant worm just looked silly.
“Okay,” Brick said and the tattoo gun hummed to life, “If you say so.”
The needle did hurt as it pricked my skin. It left behind a burning ache. I didn't mind. I had taken far worse blows. I had been clawed by Fenrir, stabbed in the stomach by a giant ape-eagle's beak, and been swallowed by a worm the size of a ten-story building. I had battled giants and gods.
I could take a tattoo gun.
Holding Magnus's hand did help as the burning increased. Just a bit.
“Did you guys get buried in the snow?” Brick asked over the hum of the gun.
“Yeah, it was such weird weather,” I said, trying not to smile. Frigg, disagreeing with what Freyr told us in California, suspected the weather imbalance was caused by my sword. I had Gungnir imbued in it—Odin's power manifested. It was too much for Midgard to handle and skewed the weather, just like when I was a kid and Odin had saved my life. Only my sword was out for longer than the few minutes for Odin to appear.
When I killed Jormungandr, Gungnir's powers were dissipated and solved the weather problem. Frigg was turning out to be an interesting woman. She adopted her more youthful persona of Freya and take her husband's role. Since all the Valkyrie basically belonged to Odin thanks to our ancestor's oath, Freya had inherited us. She wanted to make sure we kept protecting Midgard. Brynhilda and Sayyid had already left. They heard rumors of a Frost Giant in Alaska.
I was fine with that. I accepted my life with Magnus. We had centuries ahead of us, traveling, fighting, having adventures, supporting each other. Loki was dead, but other threats remained. We had to be vigilant.
“So weird how summer just came back,” Brick continued. “Global warming. It's messing the world up.”
“Uh-huh,” I said.
The tattooing took a while. And by a while, I mean hours and hours. I grew uncomfortable just lying on my belly. I chatted with Magnus and Brick as he worked. It took time to first trace the image then ink them in.
Usually, this was a multiple visit process. But I was tough. I took the pain.
Finally, the tattoo gun turned off. Brick shook his head. “What are you, lady?”
“Huh?” I asked.
“Your flesh should be inflamed. You should need a week or more to heal from this, and yet most of the tattoo looks like you've had it for a month or more. Only the parts I just finished are inflamed. That's not how this is supposed to work.”
“What if I said I was a Valkyrie,” I smiled. “We heal fast.”
I felt his eyes upon the image on my back. “No way.”
“He's the wolf,” I giggled before I reached behind me to tie my bikini again. Then I sat up. “So, how does it look?”
“Gorgeous,” Magnus grinned.
“Yes, it does,” Brick agreed. “A masterpiece. Damn, a real-life Valkyrie. That's crazy.”
“Yep,” I agreed as I hopped off the table.
Brick kept staring at us.
“We need to pay,” Magnus said.
“Right, right,” the tattoo artist nodded, then glanced at Magnus again. His face paled. “Yeah, yeah, I can see the wolf. Let's go.”
Magnus handed me my leather vest, my cut. It was black, like his, and had patches on the back. I was the Valkyrie Goddess and Warrior Queen. Magnus had retired as the president of the Black Wolves Motorcycle Club, Maple Valley Chapter to form the Roaming Pack Chapter with me. Big Hoss was the president now. It was up to him to rebuild.
Magnus paid cash for the tattoo—it was not cheap—and then we left the tattoo parlor and stepped out into the warm, summer day of Maple Valley. The air smelled fresh. Mount Rainier loomed in the distance, and between us and the peak was a forest of evergreen trees.
I admired the beauty. I did that a lot in the last week. Saving the world made me really appreciate it. I wanted to see it. To travel with Magnus and experience all the beauty Midgard had to offer.
I straddled the bike behind Magnus, wrapping my arms around his waist. The bike chugged to life as I hugged him from behind. I enjoyed the leather scent of his cunt mixed with his musk. The engine's roar shuddered through the bike, forming an itch between my thighs.
I was where I belonged. I loved riding behind him.
“You ready to ride?” Magnus asked.
“Like the wind,” I grinned as I held him tight. “Rev it.”
Magnus laughed, “My Boudica.”
Tires squealed and we were off. The sun set behind us and the stars and moon rose before as we raced east down the highway. The wind whipped through our faces as we headed into the mountains. The stars blazed over our head, twinkling with such beauty. It was like they shined only for Magnus and me. Excitement built inside of me, a warm heat.
Soon, we would find a hill and I would make love to my wolf beneath the night's beauty.
I kept a tight grip on my Einherjer, ready to experience the world from the back of my lover's bike. I had made the right choice in the Boar Coffee Shop and Cafe.
The END
Hot Preview of “Night's Beauty (The Valkyrie's Passion 0)”
I was almost sad when the bike's engine cut off. My legs shook as I dismounted. Magnus seized me, pulling me to him. He stared into my eyes, studying me. I shivered, holding him tight. I knew this was wrong. I knew I would regret this. But I had to have him tonight. One night of passion.
“What?” I asked.
“Making sure this is what you want.”
“Is it?” I asked, rubbing harder against him.
“You've wanted it since you laid eyes on me...” He arched his eyebrows, inviting me to supply a name.
“I'm Raven.”
“A magnificent bird,” he answered and kissed me.
Everything vanished except Magnus. There was no parking lot. There was no cold wind. There was no seedy motel. There was only the wolfish biker's arms wrapped about my body, holding me tight. His body was so hard against my soft curves. His hand slid down and squeezed my ass. I moaned as he kneaded me, pulling me harder against his bulge.
I never wanted the kiss to end. My heart thudded in my chest. No kiss had ever made the world spin about me. I clung to him. I was afraid if I let go I would drown in our passion. My arms tightened about his neck.
When he broke the kiss, I realized he was taller than me. Over six feet. I liked it. It was nice to look up into a man's strong, passionate face. “You are all mine for the night.”
“Yes,” I moaned.
He leaned down and scooped me up, throwing me over his shoulder. I giggled as my hair fell down around my face. I squirmed, playfully trying to escape. But my biker warrior had captured me and was carrying me off.
“What are you going to do to me?” I moaned.
“Enjoy you.” His hand slid up beneath my skirt to pat my ass through my satin panties.
“Yes,” I moaned. “Ravish me.” I closed my eyes, picturing him in Viking furs and carrying me back to his longboat. I was his plunder tonight. He vanquished Talon and had claimed me.
I squeezed my thighs together as the liquid heat burned hotter inside me.
Click her to read the exciting night of passion Raven and Magnus shared!
Hot Preview of “Howling Passion (Passion Moon 1)”
My feet slapped as I came down the stairs, my hips swaying. My nipples were hard, dimpling the front of my nightshirt. I couldn't remember the last time a man had excited me this much. Maybe the first night I had seen Burt play, and he had made love to me with his eyes, I had been this excited.
But that was so long ago, the memory soured by the monster Burt had become.
Tonight would be far more glorious.
“Kotie,” Forrest smiled as he rose from the couch before the fire, setting a paperback book to the side. “What do you need?”
“You,” I purred, striding forward.
That cocky, self-possessed, feral grin spread on his face. His excitement swelled, bulging the front of his jeans. I licked my lips. He was big. A shudder washed through me as I padded closer, my bare feet swishing across the bear-skin rug.
His arms enfolded me. His lips mashed against mine. He kissed me, devouring my lips, his strong arms wrapping about me. I let him hold me, my body pressed against his hard muscles. I moaned into his kiss, my arms hugging his neck, clinging to him.
I felt so amazingly safe, so wonderfully desired in his arms.
Forrest's hands slid down my back, each seizing a cheek of my bubbly butt. He squeezed me, pulling me against his bulge. My hips writhed, rubbing against his passion. He throbbed hard and my pussy clenched. I couldn't wait to feel him in me.
“Kotie,” he groaned, his lips sucking at my neck, kissing up to my ear. His teeth nipped me. He growled, hungry as he feasted.
“Oh, Sheriff,” I groaned, my hands roaming Forrest's hard body. I dipped beneath his shirt, sliding up his back. My clitoris brushed against his bulge, pleasure rippling through me. “Ravish me,” I groaned, my fingernails biting into his back. “I've never...oh, yes...you're driving me...oh, Sheriff!”
His teeth nipped my ears. “You smell delicious,” he groaned.
“I haven't showered in two days,” I groaned.
“Your musk...” He growled, low and throaty. “I'm going to eat you up.”
“Devour me,” I panted as he pulled me down to the bear-skin rug.
His hands grabbed the hem of my nightshirt. I held my arms up, letting Forrest pull it over my body, mussing my red hair even worse. I didn't care. We would writhe in passion.
Forrest's hands seized my breasts. I gasped as he kneaded my round flesh, his rough thumbs brushing my hard nipples. I sank onto my back, the bear-skin rug tickling my sensitive skin. His mouth descended, nipping my hard nipple before engulfing between his lips.
“Oh, yes!” I groaned as his tongue swirled about my nub before sucking hard. He was hungry, engulfing as much of my breast as he could, stirring pleasure down to my fiery pussy.
Forrest released my nipple, kissing and licking his way to my other breast. His tongue trailed up my breast, reaching my nub. He circled, then nipped it. The shock of pain mixed with the pleasure. I loved it.
My fingers scratched at his T-shirt. I needed to see his muscular form. I pulled at his shoulders, his shirt bunching around his neck. With a growl, he rose, ripping his shirt off and throwing it near the crackling fire.
Forrest was muscled like a Renaissance statue. My eyes widened in awe. Sweat gleamed on his perfectly sculpted pecs, and his abs rippled with a six pack. Tattooed across his body was barbwire, the barbs digging into his flesh. He looked chained in the black wire, his muscular physique restrained somehow by ink. His arms were as thick as my legs, the left wrapped in a thick, white bandage.
“Oh, Lord, you are gorgeous,” I moaned.
Click her to read more of the first chapter of Kotie and Forrest's hot, sultry love story!
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